VIOLET DAWN

Chapter 30

Arms flung high above her head,

She danced, the gypsy queen.

Ablaze with gold and green and red,

She was tempting the moon. 

Patrick put down his quill, his body still as he regarded the pages in front of him. He didn't move, afraid the pleasure coursing through his veins would end at the slightest shift.

He was writing, pages and pages of verse flowing out of him as if a rapid river had broken free of a dam.

It had been years, so many years since he wrote anything. He had believed that the muses had left him permanently and now... his face lit up and stillness was no longer an option. The exhilaration he felt would not be contained.

It felt like...like coming home.

"Vio-," he stopped short of calling her name. Violet. She was the reason why he had managed to put his quill to paper after almost one-hundred years of silence in the part of his mind that produced words that imagined that filled him with pleasure, with passion.

She was his muse. The thought was unsettling. How had she become important to him? There had to be an explanation. She was beautiful, undoubtedly so, and strong and talented and intelligent...maybe it was her blindness? It did make him feel protective over her.

And yet, he knew she could take care of herself. She didn't need him. Not his protection, or his money or his influence. She didn't want anything from him. He had to practically force her to accept his gifts!

Patrick frowned. He wanted her to need him.

But, maybe the very fact that she didn't, the very fact that she wanted nothing from him other than the time they spent together, maybe that was the precise reason that he wanted her so intensely.

Yes, he wanted her intensely. He would leave it at that and think no more of the matter.

"Patrick?"

Violet's voice came from just outside his study door. He smiled as he opened it for her.

"Just the woman I was looking for."

Violet had a hesitant smile on her face and was carrying a book. Patrick guessed she had heard him earlier when he had begun to call her name. The library was just down the hall and her hearing was exceptional for a human.

"Were you in the library again?" He had caught her in there several times, just sitting or touching the bindings of the books.

She looked embarrassed for a moment, before squaring her shoulders and showing him the volume she was holding. "I like the smell of them. The books that is. They all have their own distinct scent. This one smells like Scotland...do you think it might have been printed there?"

Patrick took The War of Clans from her and ran his fingers over the tattered spine. It hadn't only been printed in Scotland, Patrick had also written it there. He returned the novel to her, saying nothing.

"I guess you're busy..." Violet said. She looked as though she would leave. Suddenly, Patrick couldn't think of anything worse than her departure.

"Would you care for a walk?"

Violet looked surprised, "Of course. If you don't have to work?"

He did have paperwork he had been ignoring all morning, waiting on his desk. But it could wait a while longer.

"Nothing that can't wait. Shall we meet at the door in ten minutes?"

She was running towards the stairs before he had finished asking his question. Patrick smiled as he went to retrieve his coat. He found himself smiling a lot since Violet had come to the house.

The walk to Hyde Park didn't take long.

"It's lovely."

The pleasure in Violet's voice was infectious. She looked glorious in the fur trimmed white coat he had bought her earlier that week. Black hair flowing every-which-way, sun kissed skin and eyes that reminded him of the emeralds he had seen the Ottoman Sultan wear on his headdress.

Even after so many weeks, it still confounded him that those beautiful eyes could not see.

"Don't you think it's lovely?"

The question pulled Patrick out of his musing. He watched Violet trail her hands over the trees at the edge of the path they were walking on and wondered what on earth she was talking about. It didn't matter he agreed with her; she was lovely.

"Yes."

She turned suddenly, laughing, "You haven't been listening have you?"

Patrick feigned innocence, "I have no idea what you mean."

Violet wiggled her finger at him playfully, "You are terrible my Lord, but no matter, I forgive you  because you brought me here."

"Is that right?" Patrick grabbed her hand and twirled her into his arms, "Well, where is my thank you, then?"

Her body stilled, her face tipping up to his.

"Thank you," she said softly and the gratefulness he heard in her voice sobered him. It took so little to please Violet. Patrick hated to think why she always seemed so surprised when people were kind to her.

"I am the one who is  grateful," Patrick said as he trailed his fingers down her cheek.

"For what?" she looked confused.

"For being with me. I see the surprise in your face when I pay you a compliment and wonder how you can be so unconscious of your beauty, your strength..."

"Stop!" Violet blushed, trying to pull away from him. Patrick knew he had to go slowly with her. He wanted to go slowly with her.

He wanted to go slowly with her?

Patrick took a step back and was glad when Violet turned and continued to make her way across the park.

What was he thinking? She was his mistress! Their affair would last however long they continued to enjoy each other and that would be that. They would both move on and Patrick would ensure she never had to work again, her insistence on not taking his money be damned!

"Oh Patrick, come quickly!"

Patrick sped up his steps to reach the spot where Violet was kneeling on the floor. They would move on, of course they would, but why did the thought of Violet taking another lover make him want to break something?

Reaching Violet's side, he looked down, "What is it?"

Violet stood, a tiny brown thing in her arms, "It's so tiny Patrick, and so cold."

He looked down into the eyes of a tiny kitten and had a sinking feeling.

"We can't leave it here," Violet insisted, rubbing her nose against the fluffy fur of the animal. Patrick heard the little one purr and felt himself giving in. How was he going to say no, to either of them? Ever?

"What do we call it?"

Violet looked stunned for a moment, then a smile broke over her face that left him breathless.

"Can we call her Bess?

Leaning forward, he kissed her warm lips and smiled "Bess it is."